


I now pronounce you Dorks in Love

by nerdlife4eva



Series: Love at Nikiforov's [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, More tags to be added, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Planning, Wedding Rings, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-12 07:19:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11732238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdlife4eva/pseuds/nerdlife4eva
Summary: Victor and Yuuri have been engaged for almost a year when a conversation over Yuuri's wedding book spurs them to begin planning their wedding. Deciding to hold their wedding in six weeks seems like a wonderfully romantic idea, but will the stress of wedding planning and the ghosts of Victor's past derail their happiness? Come along for a wild ride that is the Victuuri wedding at Nikiforov's!In honor of YOI Wedding Week 2017, I bring you aBe My Chef, YuuriVictuuri wedding! This fic will update along with the prompts provided byYOI Wedding Week 2017 Tumblrit will be full length and completed by the end of the week!





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> If you read the epilogue of BMCY, you will recognize this prologue! Chapter 1 officially starts the Wedding Week fic
> 
> For everyone returning to the BMCY universe, welcome back! Thanks for coming back to hang with me! 
> 
> If you are new to BMCY, the original fic is complete (link above) and it is a restaurant AU. I hope you will give it a chance or enjoy this fic all on its own!

_**Year Two – Day One** _

Yuuri was pissed. Slamming the door to the cab shut, he tossed money at the driver, only thinking to apologize for his rudeness after the man drove away leaving a dusting of Russian curses in his wake. It was ridiculous that after months of commuting together, both Phichit and Victor had managed to leave him behind at the house. Phichit had taken one car, Victor the other and Yuuri been left gawking at the empty driveway. Neither of them had bothered to answer their phones, and Yuuri had taken turns leaving screaming voicemails in both inboxes. He was late now, sweating from being in the overly warm cab, and nursing a powerful headache. Determined to focus his frustration on his boyfriend and his best friend, Yuuri stormed into the restaurant ready for a fight.

And was immediately struck dumb with the sight of hundreds of rainbow roses decorating every surface, highlighted by the twinkling of thousands of tiny white lights. Staring, confused and alarmed convinced that he had missed an event, Yuuri blinked several times when Minami approached him, handing him a single yellow rose. “Yuuri” read the tag attached. Minami high fived him and then walked over to the bar.

He missed Otabek’s existence until he was directly in front of Yuuri’s face. Silently, Otabek handed him a dyed-green rose. “Will” was stamped on this tag. Otabek nodded, patting Yuuri on the shoulder and moved to join Minami.

Mila popped up from the hostess stand, startling Yuuri and making him laugh nervously. She laid a single pink rose in his hands, grabbing his face to kiss his cheek. The tag read, “you” and Yuuri’s brow furrowed with confusion.

A red rose was added to his stack, Chris winking at him and ruffling Yuuri’s hair before moving to stand with the others. Confusion growing stronger, Yuuri stared at the single word. “Me?”

“Hey,” Yurio stood in front of him, passing a white rose back and forth between his hands. “This shit is stupid,” Yurio kicked his foot against the ground, finally making eye contact. “But I guess I’m happy for you guys.” Yuuri squeaked in shock when Yurio hugged him. “Don’t break up again, okay? Some idiot adults have to be good.” Little tears pricked at the side of Yurio’s eyes, as he added the last rose to Yuuri’s arms. The word on this tag had Yuuri’s heart jumping into his throat.

“Marry.”

Music filled the room as Phichit excitedly skipped toward him, throwing rose petals while flashing a sign that put it all together. “Yuuri, will you marry me?” Before Phichit could even release him from the bone-crushing hug, Yuuri spotted Victor, dressed in a full suit, carrying a bouquet of deep red roses. “I’ll take these,” Phichit giggled, collecting Yuuri’s roses and the bouquet from Victor’s arms, whistling as he danced away to gather with the others. Yuuri’s heart beat slammed against his ears, blood flushing to his cheeks as Victor dropped to one knee in front of him.

“Yuuri Katsuki, one year ago, you walked into this restaurant and changed my life,” tears ran down Victor’s cheeks and Yuuri hurriedly wiped them away with his thumbs. “I asked you to be my chef, you asked me to be your forever. So today, I am here, asking you to be my forever. Be my everything, Yuuri, as you always have been, since the first moment that you stepped into this place. Yuuri Katsuki, will you marry me?”

Yuuri tackled Victor flat on his back, kissing him in mid fall. As they landed in a heap on the ground, Victor’s head carefully cradled in Yuuri’s hand, cheers erupted all around them, every member of the Nikiforov staff joining in the celebration.

“So,” Victor kissed back as Yuuri attacked his lips, “is that a yes?”

“That’s definitely a yes, just…” Yuuri said, “don’t check your voicemail.” Laughter filled their kiss as they continued to lay tangled in the foyer of the restaurant, in the exact spot where they had first met.


	2. Wedding Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These amazing dorks start planning their wedding... six weeks before they want it to happen.
> 
> And there are other dorks in love. Love is alive and well at Nikiforov's!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Victor are still the couple that inspires, but deciding to plan a wedding within six weeks would bring stress to anyone's lives!

The first time Victor had seen Yuuri’s wedding planning book, it was on the day that Yuuri had come in for the consultation with JJ and Isabella. He could easily remember being in awe of the colorful tabs and intricate organization that Victor so closely related to everything Yuuri did in the kitchen. The options in Yuuri’s book extended beyond food and Victor had watched as Isabella had taken pictures and notes from the borrowed pages.

The second time Victor saw the wedding book, it was a chaotic rainbow of colored post-its. Each had scribbles in a mix of two languages and the once organized sections had been stuffed with magazine clippings and scrap notes. Victor had come upon it one Monday morning when Yuuri had taken Makkachin to the groomer. Pulling the now overflowing binder from under Yuuri’s knife bag and sitting down at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, Victor happily cracked open the cover of his contraband. Humming to himself, Victor slowly began to mentally construct their wedding based on Yuuri’s notes.

His favorite parts were Yuuri’s excited jottings about the food. There were pages of hand written notes, slipping between Japanese and English, and detailing a menu that Victor could only half read. It was a perfect mash up of their two worlds and by the time Victor reached the end, his cheeks were sore from smiling. He had been daydreaming about their wedding since the moment he purchased Yuuri’s engagement ring, but Yuuri had actually been planning it. Something about that knowledge had Victor feeling very warm and fuzzy as he continued to flip through each page.

Yuuri stood at the doorway of the kitchen, watching over his fiancé with a thoughtful smile. It was amazing how quickly they had fallen into a rhythm with each other, taking on life as an engaged couple. His ring felt perfectly at home on his finger and he couldn’t wait for the jeweler to finish with Victor’s matching one. Victor had no idea that Yuuri had ordered the second engagement ring, and he was excitedly anticipating the surprise. For the moment though, he was happy to be standing in their kitchen, observing his fiancé’s happy perusal of his now chaotic wedding book.

Pushing from the doorframe, Yuuri crossed the kitchen to kiss Victor on the head. “What do you have there, my love?” He chuckled when Victor gave him a sheepish look. Yuuri sunk into the chair next to Victor and let himself be pulled to Victor’s side. “It is a little all over the place, unfortunately.” He flipped a page to reveal tux ideas.

The urge to squeeze Yuuri overtook Victor and he wrapped both arms tightly around his fiancé. “I didn’t know you were thinking about this so much! When do you want to get married?” Victor thought immediately sounded like the best option, but he kept that thought to himself as he rested his cheek against Yuuri’s head.

“I was thinking maybe in the next couple of months?” Yuuri heard Victor gasp and looked up. “Well, the deck is finally finished at the restaurant, and my family is coming for a visit anyway. We don’t have to worry about a caterer or a DJ and I thought flowers could come from the garden-” His rambling was cut short as Victor tackled Yuuri onto the ground. “So, yes?” Yuuri said in between kisses, remembering the reversal of their positions on the day they got engaged.

“YES!” Victor half-shouted making Yuuri jump. They dissolved into laughter, hugging each other close while still laying on their kitchen floor. It wasn’t the weirdest place they had found themselves lying, but it certainly wasn’t the most comfortable either.

Finally peeling themselves apart, Victor helped Yuuri from the floor and went to pour another cup of coffee. They were going to get married. They were going to have the tuxes and the flowers and the giant wedding cake. Victor was so happy with the reality of life that he nearly poured coffee on his hand.

“We need to ask our wedding party to be a part of this,” Yuuri said, almost to himself. He already knew he would ask Phichit, Isabella, and Mari to stand with him on their day. There was a fourth on his list, but he couldn’t be sure if Victor would have the same person on his.

Victor thought this was the easiest part of the entire wedding. He and Chris had made a pact when they were ten years old to be each other’s best men and Mila was the closest thing to a sister that Victor had ever had. JJ was also an obvious choice. He had one unconventional request for his side of the wedding party and he eyed Yuuri over the top of his coffee mug wondering how weird the fourth member would seem. “Yuuri…” Victor was trying to figure out how to word his request without sounding like a crazy dog person.

Yuuri glanced up and scrunched his face at Victor’s odd expression. “Who do you want in your half?” He couldn’t understand what was happening to Victor’s face. It looked like a terrible combination of glee and constipation. “I would like to ask Phichit, my sister, and Isabella. But I have a fourth in mind if you have four…” Yuuri trailed off still peering at Victor with a look of puzzled adoration.

“Well, I…” Victor placed his coffee mug on the counter, “Chris, Mila, and JJ for sure, but I have a fourth. You might think it is silly though.” Shrugging, Victor picked his mug back up and chugged his coffee. Makkachin was his baby and it shouldn’t be weird that he wanted the poodle in the wedding, dressed in a little tux to match Victor’s own.

Confused, Yuuri continued to study Victor’s erratic movements over the kitchen island. “Alright, on the count of three, why don’t we both say our fourth? Then if it is the same person, we will sort it out.” Seeing Victor wince at the word person, Yuuri thought he had a clue as who Victor was going to name. Relieved that there wouldn’t be a conflict and a little more in love than he had been five minutes before, Yuuri began to count. “1… 2… 3…” Holding up a finger to each number, Yuuri took a deep breath after the number three.

“Yurio,” Yuuri smiled.

“Makkachin,” Victor mumbled.

Jumping from his seat, Yuuri moved around the island to hug Victor. “You are really cute, you know that?” It had taken Yuuri almost two years to be comfortable giving out random compliments. Once he had settled into the concept, he used the talent to make Victor blush whenever possible. The nickname “my love” also served as a blush instigator and Yuuri enjoyed tossing it Victor’s way in every setting.

Victor turned to bury his head onto Yuuri’s shoulder. “You don’t think it is stupid?” He really should have known better. Yuuri loved Makkachin as much as Victor did, and together they spoiled her with affection. She spent every hour at the restaurant with them and had become everyone’s favorite mascot.

“Not stupid,” Yuuri ran a hand over the back of Victor’s head. “What if we got a little doggy tux to match yours? I’m sure we can find something online once you pick yours.” Yuuri squeaked as Victor squeezed him hard.

“I love you,” Victor lifted his head to kiss Yuuri loudly, “I can’t wait to marry you!” In a line of amazing life events Victor wanted with Yuuri, marriage was only the first. Looking down at the sparkling brown of Yuuri’s eyes, Victor sighed with happiness. They had been through so much to get where they were and he couldn’t wait to continue the adventure.

Stepping out of Victor’s embrace, Yuuri tugged him back to the table. “It is going to sound corny,” Yuuri flipped through a few pages in his book, landing on the one he wanted and tapping a finger to it. “This is how we should ask them all. What do you think?”

With a thud, Yuuri found himself back on the floor once again covered in a loving pile of Victor. Chuckling, he reached up and grabbed his favorite set of cheeks, laughing into a kiss.

* * *

 

Throughout his time as a chef, Yuuri had catered a number of weddings from the smallest, private affairs to thousands of celebrities dressed to impress and ready to party. Phichit had always been by his side and as a team they had coaxed kitchens full of hassled waiters through rounds of appetizers, sit down meals, mile long buffets, and nightmarish chocolate fountains. Yuuri had seen bridezillas, monsters of the bride, and the rare, but existent, groomzillas. He had an entire list of wedding don’ts logged in the back of his book and planned to adhere to all of them.

Except the one about elaborate requests to join a bridal party. There had been a remarkable number of times that he and Phichit had made questionable faces at brides who wanted extra cakes or treats, or even entire meals, specifically designed to ask other people to be a part of the wedding day. It seemed like an odd way to ask friends to spend hundreds of dollars to give up multiple days of their lives and Yuuri claimed to not understand the thought process behind the growing trend.

Until he found himself in the kitchen at Nikiforov’s with Victor beside him as acting sous chef, preparing nine different dinners and nine different desserts. Makkachin’s meals had already been made and set aside, ensuring that none of the doggy ingredients would be mixed in with the human ones. The idea of accidentally feeding one of their friends slivers of dog treats had made Victor laugh while it made Yuuri’s stomach clench in disgust.

 _Maybe_ it was a little ridiculous to convince their friends to come in early on a Tuesday for lunch. _Maybe_ it was a little outrageous to make exactly one plate of each of their favorite meals. _Maybe_ it was way over the top to also make each friend their own special dessert. But, as Victor had tactfully pointed out, they were all family and it was okay to spoil family, even if there was an ulterior motive. Finishing the last of the piping on Phichit’s carrot cake, Yuuri wiped a hand over his brow. Adding it to the line of finished desserts, Yuuri turned to wash his hands and shrug out of his chef’s jacket.

“They are here!” Victor’s voice sang happily from the front of the store as Yuuri slipped a more proper shirt on. He checked his plates one more time and then slid them carefully onto two trays. Balancing one in each hand, Yuuri backed from the kitchen.

He was met with a chorus of catcalls that somehow he hadn’t learned how to anticipate even going into his third year at the restaurant. Blushing profusely, he slid the trays onto the table and pretended to take a bow. Lifting each plate in turn, Yuuri placed them carefully down in front of their recipients.

“Ai! What is this all about?” Yurio dug directly into his food, not waiting for the answer to come. At eighteen, Yurio was still a string bean of a human, even though he was now eye level with Victor. Yuuri still thought of him as a scrawny fifteen year old, and did not resist the urge to tussle Yurio’s hair. When the teen swatted at him, Yuuri laughed and winked across the table at Victor.

Victor gave Yuuri an excited smile over his own plate as Makkachin joined the party, plunking down between Victor and Yuuri to sniff into the bowls. Everyone in the restaurant functioned as a family, but these people sitting in front of them right now were Victor’s core. His three partners, his best friends, and Yurio, who was easily the best mistake Victor had ever made. He remembered Yurio’s sixteenth birthday fondly, and the massive amount of jokes made at Victor’s expense for accidentally hiring a child of fifteen. Now Nikiforov’s sponsored all of Yurio’s skating expenses, along with continuing to employ Yurio whenever he was available. Sometimes Yurio’s grandfather would join Yuuri in the Nikiforov’s kitchen and Victor loved the way Yuuri hung on the older man’s every word.

At one point in his life, Victor had wondered if he would ever get married. Then, when he managed to progress passed that worry, he would ask himself if anyone besides Chris would care enough to stand by him. Now, he was sitting at a table surrounded by wonderful people who he proudly called his family. There were only two people missing, and Victor shoved that thought away from the front of his mind.

“To answer Yurio’s question,” Yuuri smiled at Victor and squeezed his leg under the table. “We wanted to ask you all something.”

“I call best man!” JJ, Chris, Phichit, and Yurio yelled in unison making the entire group laugh. Out of the four of them, Yurio was the only one who blushed.

Feeling the hint of tears gathering, Victor looked at his friends. “Chris, JJ, I was hoping you would stand with me. And you too, Mila.” He watched as his friends smiled back at him giving their various forms of acceptance. “Makkachin gets to be my fourth member.” Victor hesitated, waiting for laughter and was instead met with enthusiasm.

From her place across the table, Isabella waved excitedly. “What does your tux look like? Or your suit? Can I make Makkachin a matching outfit?” She was not ready for Victor to run around the table to hug her, and Isabella’s surprised squawk left the rest of them laughing again.

Patting Victor’s shoulder as he sat down, Yuuri leaned in to his ear. “We are going to have to up our insurance if you keep tackling people.” He pecked a loving kiss on Victor’s cheek, adoring the happy pink dusting over Victor’s face. Looking back over the table, Yuuri felt his own emotions gathering. No wonder so many brides made a big deal out of this, it felt like the hardest question Yuuri had ever asked anyone.

“Wait!” Phichit commanded from his side of the table, his fingers flying over his phone. His signature ringtone began and he picked up the video call immediately.

Mari’s face peered at Yuuri from the screen of Phichit’s phone. Controlling his emotions was close to impossible now, his best friend’s anticipation of Yuuri’s fourth party member hitting him directly in the heart. “Hi, Mari!” Yuuri waved watching his sister smile from inside of the inn in Japan.

“Hello, little brother,” Mari dragged on her cigarette and contemplated Yuuri’s face. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well… I…” suddenly Yuuri felt shy in a way that he hadn’t felt in years. “Mari, Isabella, would you be my maids of honor in the wedding? And Yurio and Phichit, would you be my best men?” He got the words out, but was not ready to be tackled by Phichit and Isabella. Yurio gave him a calm thumbs up from the safety of his seat.

Mari’s muffled voice floated from somewhere below Yuuri’s armpit. Phichit yanked the phone back up and handed it to Yuuri. “How much hugging is going on?” Mari looked highly amused from her safe distance in another country.

Leaning over Yuuri’s shoulder, Victor waved at Mari. “Hello, Mari!” Victor let his chin rest against Yuuri’s shoulder. “Thank you for being in the wedding!”

“Of course,” Mari nodded, “I want to be there for both of my brothers.”

Yuuri heard the stutter in Victor’s breath against his ear. Lacing their fingers together under the table, Yuuri twisted to kiss Victor’s forehead. He knew the value of his own family in Victor’s life, and he also knew how deeply Victor would be affected by Mari’s words.

“Is this wedding happening while we are there?” Mari took another drag of her cigarette, unaware of the shockwave she caused through the rest of the wedding party. Yuuri nodded, gauging the reactions of his friends.

“How are you two going to pull a wedding off in less than six weeks?” Isabella looked at them with wide eyes. Waving a hand at JJ, she gaped in worry, “It took me a year to put everything together!”

It was Phichit who spoke up, winking at Yuuri as he spoke. “Yuuri and I can handle the menu, and I will call in some extra help from a temp waiter service. Flowers, we have a thousand right outside thanks to the roses extravaganza that was Victor’s proposal. Linens here will work, ceremony on the patio. Oh, and for day-of call Leo, he’s a wedding planner.”

“Your boyfriend?” Chris shot across the table, leaning back against his chair to raise an eyebrow at Phichit.

“Not since November,” Phichit rolled his eyes, “keep up on the restaurant gossip!” Throwing a napkin a Chris, Phichit stuck his tongue out when Chris easily caught it. “And I call dibs on planning the bachelor party!”

“No way!” JJ and Chris shouted in unison.

Without glancing up from his food, Yurio shook his head. “I’m not forced to participate in that right? I heard about Katsudon at the last one of those things.” Yurio pretended to shudder and narrowed his eyes at Yuuri.

Glancing at Victor, Yuuri bit his lip. There had been a long discussion between them the night before about the bachelor parties. Neither of them wanted to celebrate separately and they had no desire to exclude the girls either. They had decided to forego the entire tradition, but now that Yuuri was faced with Phichit’s very convincing puppy dog eyes and Chris’s goofy eyebrow wiggle, he felt bad for taking it away from them. “Um, guys, we…” Yuuri looked to Victor for help.

“We don’t want to celebrate separately and we don’t want anyone left out. So if you can come up with a plan that includes everyone, we are in.” Victor narrowed his eyes directly at Chris, “no funny business, _Christophe_.” Everyone at the table laughed as Chris mocked offense at Victor’s words.  

The rest of their time together was spent consuming the individualized desserts while everyone added their own ideas for wedding plans. Yurio wanted a tiger striped tux, Chris wanted a pole at the reception, and Mari wanted to wear shorts. By the time the plates were finally cleared and the rest of the staff began to arrive, Yuuri’s stomach was aching from the constant flex of laughter. If this was how the next six weeks was going to go, he was sure they would be the best six weeks of his life.

 

Victor caught Yuuri in the hallway, grabbing him by the front of the shirt to drag his adorable fiancé into an inappropriate-for-work kiss. They had long ago destroyed any hope of professional behavior and were thankful that the staff had finally gotten over putting photographs of their public displays on the restaurant’s Instagram. Their brief venture into a hallway make-out session was interrupted by arguing voices in the kitchen. Breaking apart, Yuuri shrugged at Victor, pushing into the kitchen to investigate.

“I will have you know, Phichit,” Aniya practically spat the syllables of Phichit’s name, “I was trained by one of the best decorator’s in the business at Stammi Vicino Patissier* and I _will_ be decorating this wedding cake!”

“SVP, huh?” Phichit took a cautious step back from Aniya, nearly colliding with Chris who had come to observe the argument. “I’ve been in there, guy seems nice even though he could use to get laid. Nothing compared to the guy who makes chocolates though.” Behind Phichit, Chris scoffed.

Georgi swung into the kitchen, placing a protect arm around Aniya’s waist. “That guy has apparently hired his _own_ cute love interest,” Georgi threw a look over his shoulder at Yuuri and Victor who grinned at each other. “What if Phichit makes the layers and Aniya decorates? Fair?”

Yuuri watched as Aniya’s expression softened when she looked at Georgi. They were an odd couple, but Yuuri loved them together and he decided to help Georgi play the hero. “I love that idea. Phichit you know what both Victor and I like and then we also get Aniya’s decorating expertise. Great idea, Georgi!” Yuuri smiled watching Georgi light up and sent a begging look in Phichit’s direction.

“Fine, fine, the grooms get what the grooms want,” Phichit raised his hands in mocking defeat moving across the kitchen and toward the fridge.

“What does this guy at SVP have that I don’t?” Chris leaned on the fridge door, cocking an eyebrow in Phichit’s direction.

Phichit hesitated, before popping his hip out and pretending like he was going to make a list. “First, he’s single.”

Chris leaned in a little closer. “And I’m not?” There was a playful smirk teasing at the corners of Chris’s mouth.

“How’s Matt… or Massi… or Massumi… or whatever his name is?” Phichit poked Chris in the chest, retaliating with a smirk of his own.

“Engaged,” Chris huffed, “to someone who is not me.” Shoving from the fridge door, Chris headed out of the kitchen. “Who is slacking on the restaurant gossip now?” The question left a very offended Phichit gawking at the swinging doors.

On the other side of the room, Yuuri and Victor watched the interaction with their eyebrows raised into their hairlines. Almost three years ago they had dragged Phichit and Chris on a sorry excuse for a double date, both getting variations of “he isn’t that into me” after the fact. Narrowing his eyes, Victor nudged Yuuri with his elbow. “One of them was lying, right? You saw that?” Waving a hand that lacked any sense of subtly, Victor looked to Yuuri for solidarity.

Slowly nodding his head, Yuuri watched his best friend attempt and fail to open the fridge door three times. “I think…” leaning closer to Victor, Yuuri whispered, “that we are not the only dorks in love anymore.”

Victor beamed down at Yuuri. DorksInLove and LoveAtNikiforovs were the hashtags that stalked them across Instagram and it looked like they were about to get a revival. It would be tough work planning a wedding and hooking up the best men in a short six weeks, but Victor figured if he recruited Leo for the wedding planning and Mila for the matchmaking, he and Yuuri could easily succeed at both. Stealing one final kiss, Victor spun from the kitchen, visions of love dancing all through his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Stammi Vicino Patissier](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11269005/chapters/25199505)


	3. Tuxes, Dresses, and Old Lady Invites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These two dorks are still planning their wedding while determined to help others find the same level of happiness. 
> 
> I apologize for the delay on this chapter! Although real life stress and traveling for a family wedding cut into my ability to stay in line with YoiWeddingWeek, I fully intend to complete this fic! I can't leave this one hanging... not with all the love and chaos planned for this!! 
> 
> Who is ready for the bachelor party? It is coming in the next chapter ;)

In the span of twenty-four hours, Victor and Yuuri had confirmed Otabek as their DJ for their wedding reception, recruited Leo and his partner Guang-Hong to aid in planning and day-of wedding events, accepted Minami’s offer to take their wedding photos, and agreed to let Isabella handle the flower designs for the centerpieces. It was hard not to feel smug as Victor stood next to Yuuri, reviewing the tux options at his favorite suit store. Next would be the stationary shop to put a rush order on invites, and then to Yuuri’s favorite tea shop in St. Petersburg where they would purchase part of their wedding favors. The other half of their favors would travel with the Katsukis when they arrived in a little less than five weeks.

It had been incredibly hard for Victor to sleep on Tuesday night, the excitement of their impending nuptials living inside his chest like an alien born of pure joy. Wednesday morning had dawned bright, tangled in the sheets with Yuuri wrapped tightly in Victor’s arms. Despite his restless energy, Victor had taken a moment to admire his fiancé’s sleepy smile and sloppy bedhead, dropping his head sheepishly when Yuuri had opened his eyes and caught Victor staring. As Yuuri chuckled, pulling Victor into a searing morning kiss filled with the promise of early morning intimacy, Victor felt his heart swell to fill his entire chest. This man was his world and would be his world for the rest of Victor’s life. Yuuri had chosen to love him, even with all of the baggage Victor slugged with him. Victor had no idea why he deserved Yuuri’s love, but he had finally learned to stop questioning it.

The thoughts of their morning together made Victor’s cheeks flush and he pulled Yuuri closer to his side, trying to refocus on the small Russian woman who was shoving mannequins in their direction. There were suits and tuxes in every hue and even more options for accessories. Victor loved dressing up and had been visiting this particular suit shop since he was a small boy wiggling against his mother’s requests to stand still. Smiling down at Yuuri, Victor continued to listen to the excited jumble of options being tossed in their direction.

Overwhelming was the only word Yuuri could think of as he stood in front of the tiniest, most intimidating woman he had ever met. She had identified him immediately as “that chef boy” causing Victor to fall into a fit of giggles, as Yuuri stared blankly between the two of them. A combination of Victor’s own stories and apparently stories trickling down from Yuuri’s favorite set of elderly restaurant troublemakers had left him with a reputation which proceeded him into the suit shop. He had caught the mention of his “soulful brown eyes” and “butt like a marble statute” and had immediately decided that pretending to be utterly stupid would be Yuuri’s only chance of survival.

Still, standing in the shop, Victor pressed against his side with a cuddling hold on Yuuir’s waist had given the concept of their wedding a solidified feeling. They had taken care of a remarkable amount of details in the course of a day, but this step seemed to feel bigger. As a result, Yuuri could feel the ripple of every heartbeat through his singing nerves.

“Are we all matching or no?”

The question caught Victor off-guard. Madame Nadia had only been barking opinions up until that point and he wasn’t quite ready to form any real thoughts. Tilting his head, Victor looked to Yuuri for a silent opinion.

“Depends?” Yuuri replied, feeling hesitant to provide a distinct answer with the judgmental eyes of the small force of nature who was Madame Nadia. “Maybe… your side should be in one color and my side in another?” It sounded reasonable, and it was essentially the way Isabella’s and JJ’s wedding had looked. Yuuri remember the way Victor had looked in the gray suit, standing in the front of the church with JJ and a surge of instant attraction flashed through him. Convincing himself to breathe, and not imagine Victor waiting at the end of the aisle on their wedding day, was becoming increasingly harder with every second.

“Something simple then,” Victor said, trying to read the blush on Yuuri’s face. “Black and white?” He looked hopefully at Madame Nadia and then around the store. When the chubby woman clapped her hands in delight, both Victor and Yuuri jumped. She disappeared from the main floor, muttering under her breath with one arm waving in the air.

“Mild heart attack,” Yuuri grabbed his chest, looking wide-eyed at Victor who was looking equally as startled. “Was that good or bad?” There was no way to tell if the older woman had been accepting of the suggestion or if she had gone off to hire a hit on her current sources of frustration.

Victor took the opportunity to wrap himself fully around Yuuri, bending his knees slightly to bring them eye-to-eye. “I believe good, but…” Victor glanced at the back room door before stealing a kiss against Yuuri’s lips, “…it doesn’t really matter, you’ll look stunning in anything.”

There was a need deep inside of Victor to cause Yuuri to blush on an hourly basis and there was no one who could convince Yuuri otherwise. Leaning back into his fiancé, Yuuri ran his hands over Victor’s cheeks. “No one is going to look at me if you look even half as good as you did at JJ’s wedding.” It was Victor’s turn to blush and Yuuri felt a sense of victory in returning the affection.

There were times, like that moment standing eye-to-eye with Yuuri, that Victor had to remind himself that the last few years were real. He had lost his parents, gained a restaurant, and fallen in love with the most wonderful man who had ever existed. The loss still weighed heavy around his heart, but every time he felt the pain creeping back in, Yuuri and the rest of his self-made family were there to battle against it. Sighing, Victor leaned forward letting the good suppress the bad as he continued to hold Yuuri.

Yuuri didn’t miss the change. Over the years, he had learned to recognize the flash of sadness in Victor’s eyes, the moments when the worst parts still threatened to pierce Victor’s heart. There were times that it faded instantly, disappearing as quickly as it had come and being replaced with the peaceful smile currently gracing Victor’s face. Other times, it would settle heavy over Victor’s gaze and Yuuri would pull him in, waiting for the storm to break or rollover and ready to support Victor through whichever path it took. He never expected Victor to move on completely from his parents’ death, and Yuuri knew that the wedding planning could be a catalyst for another spiral. Tightening his grip on Victor, Yuuri smiled as he watched his fiancé. If the storm came, Yuuri would be there, no matter how big the squalls became. He wanted to tell Victor this, but before he could open his mouth, there were tiny fierce hands shaking them apart.

“You,” Madame Nadia dragged Yuuri toward a dressing room, shoving him through the curtain. “And you!” she shoved a confused Victor through another curtain. “Try them on!” she shouted, standing back and raising a finger toward each head poking out behind curtains.

Victor twisted to examine the flawless black tuxedo, adorned with light pink accessories. Apparently, Madame Nadia had decided he would be the side sporting the black color scheme. While it made sense with his hair color, he wondered what Yuuri would say about wearing white. Deciding he couldn’t wait to see, Victor hurriedly threw the tux pieces onto his body, quickly adding the tie and cummerbund. Adjusting the jacket over his waist, Victor smiled at his reflection before stepping from the dressing room.

Turning at the sound of footsteps, Yuuri felt the breath sweep from his lungs. Victor, shoeless with his hair scattered over his forehead, looked like the perfect picture of a groom. The black tux hung over his figure, slightly too big but stunningly cut all the same. Pink accents complimented Victor’s eyes and matched the rising dust of pink across Victor’s cheeks. Stepping forward, Yuuri tugged on the front of Victor’s jacket. “Hey good lookin,” Yuuri teased, lifting a hand to fix Victor’s hair, “who is the lucky guy you’re marrying?” Smirking Yuuri, straightened Victor’s tie before reaching up to kiss Victor’s cheek.

Somewhere in his brain, Victor had words to describe how incredible Yuuri looked in the fitted white tux accented with blue accessories. Those words could describe the stark contrast between Yuuri’s gorgeous skin and the crisp white fabric. Adjectives would be needed in small armies to illuminate the beauty that were Yuuri’s blushing cheeks complimented by the blue tie and pocket square and the brush of the dark hair over Yuuri’s forehead. None of those words were readily available as Victor steadily stared at Yuuri, letting him straighten the pink tie at Victor’s neck. “My Yuuri,” Victor managed, hearing the lust and need coating his words, “you look…” he reached a hand up to touch Yuuri’s cheek.

“Marvelous!” Madame Nadia was clapping again, amused with her own success as she shoved between the two men and fussed with their outfits. “Nip here, tuck there, be ready in a week, yes?”

It took a few seconds for Victor to realize she was talking to them. Swallowing his need to tackle Yuuri into the nearest private room, Victor nodded slowly. “Yes for these two. I can send in the other men within the next two days. Will that be enough time?” Even though the question was posed at Madame Nadia, Victor’s eyes never left Yuuri.

“How many others?” Madame Nadia was tapping a finger against the back of Yuuri’s leg as she added pins to the hem of the suit pants, never pausing to look at Victor.

“Four,” Victor answered, smiling again at Yuuri and lifting a hand back to Yuuri’s face. When Yuuri yelped in pain, Victor jumped and poked Yuuri in the eye. “I’m sorry!” he shouted, attempting to kiss Yuuri on the nose when Yuuri yelped again, causing them to bump heads. Rubbing a palm against his forehead, Victor winced, “I guess some things never change.”

Despite the pain in his ankle from the pin, the ache in his eye from Victor’s thumb, and the throb in his forehead from Victor’s unexpected headbutt, Yuuri laughed. “I wonder how many years we have to be married to cease injuring each other out of our own love-drunk clumsiness.” He winced again when his ankle lost a third battle to the point of a pin. “Am I doing something wrong?” he whispered wide-eyed to Victor.

Looking down to Madame Nadia, Victor saw the pinched line between her eyebrows. “Is there something wrong?” Victor respectfully asked, reaching out to hold Yuuri’s hand.

“What size are your four?” The harsh response made Yuuri and Victor exchange another look.

“One is about my size,” Yuuri said tilting his head. “One is about the same size as Victor.”

Humming in agreement, Victor held his hand above his own head trying to visualize Chris and JJ in comparison to himself. “I suppose my two are slightly taller than me, and a little broader?” It came out as a question and Victor found himself doubting his assessment. He had never really considered the build of his friends before and found it harder to do than he anticipated. “Should I call everyone down to the shop today?” The stern look fired at him from Madame Nadia’s place at Yuuri’s ankles had him reaching for his phone. Winking at Yuuri, Victor moved away to call each one of the best men.

* * *

 

The additional hour and a half spent in the suit store with the four best men had been highly entertaining, especially with Chris’s bizarre fascination with his own butt and Madame Nadia’s own fascination with Phichit’s backside. Victor had laughed to the point of tears when Madame Nadia had criticized Yurio’s lack of a derriere and JJ’s thunder thighs. Even with the tight timeline on all of the tux alterations, they had left the suit store in high spirits waving goodbye to their friends and heading to order stationary for their big day.

The price tag on rushed invitations had Yuuri feeling slightly sick and removed all of the happy high from Madame Nadia’s antics. He had attempted for a solid twenty minutes to dissuade Victor from the fancy threefold invitations printed with gold lettering, only to be rebuffed with kisses and puppy dog eyes. Cute was Victor’s strength and Yuuri swore to himself at some point he would learn to ignore it. In his heart, Yuuri knew it would never happen.

Ready to brag about their successful day and a half of wedding planning, Victor and Yuuri sauntered into the restaurant with the intertwined hands swinging between them. They were immediately met with Mila and Isabella, who descended upon them with arms flailing, demanding to know the color scheme and decisions about dresses.

Panicked Yuuri looked to Victor. He had never worn a dress, outside of a horribly lost bet with Phichit in their second year of school, and there was no way he could pick one out. Finding an equally blank look on Victor’s face, Yuuri thought fast, suggesting that Mila and Isabella pick out their own dresses in pink for Mila and blue for Isabella. The answer seemed to pacify both women and Yuuri sighed against Victor with the feeling of a diverted crisis. Letting himself be pulled through the restaurant, Yuuri let his mind slowly come to rest after a day full of decisions. It didn’t click back to functioning until he was yanked into Victor’s office and shoved up against the closed office door.

“Hi,” Victor whispered against Yuuri’s lips before crashing them together. Falling into the kiss, Victor felt the tension in his body melt away. Everything was happening so fast that his emotions were in a constant state of playing catch up. Victor wanted nothing more than to distract himself with the feeling of Yuuri. Sliding his hands under Yuuri’s shirt, Victor shifted to nuzzle into Yuuri’s neck. “You looked so good in that tux.” Nipping at the area under Yuuri’s ear, Victor could feel Yuuri’s hum against his tongue. “I can’t wait to take it off of you on our wedding night.”

The world was becoming fuzzy at Yuuri felt the assault of Victor’s mouth against all the most sensitive spots on Yuuri’s neck. It wouldn’t be the first time that they had taken each other in the space of Victor’s office, but Yuuri was already behind on prep for the evening and once wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy the growing need that had started hours before in Madame Nadia’s shop. Shimming down the door, Yuuri placed a firm palm on Victor’s cheek and guided their lips back together. Letting himself indulge in the dance of their tongues, Yuuri almost let Victor pull him in completely. Breaking the kiss, Yuuri put both hands on Victor’s face, taking several deep breaths. “This has to wait, my love.”

Whining, Victor leaned back in to kiss Yuuri. The use of the nickname was unfair, especially if Yuuri was going to make them stop. They had already come together that morning, but somehow Victor could never fulfill his need for Yuuri against his skin. Roaming his hands under the t-shirt covering Yuuri’s torso, Victor ducked his head from Yuuri’s hold retuning to bury his face in Yuuri’s neck. “But Yuuri…” Victor pouted, chasing his own words with gentle kisses to Yuuri’s skin.

“Hmmm, Vitya…” Yuuri tried to respond, momentarily lost again in Victor’s affections, “I have prep work and a menu to set for the night. Plus if we wait, I’ll do that thing you like tonight.” Feeling Victor pause, Yuuri knew he had won. Ducking free, Yuuri leaned in to kiss Victor one more time. “I have to go,” he laughed as Victor grabbed at his waist, “I love you, Vitya, I will be right across the hall.” Yuuri yanked opened the door.

“Too far,” Victor pouted, the smile teasing over his lips and ruining the effect. Leaning on the door frame, Victor watched Yuuri walk to the kitchen. “You promise?” He let his eyes travel over Yuuri’s body, remembering the tight fit of the white tux. “You promise about the thing?”

Winking over his shoulder, Yuuri pushed into the kitchen, letting the image of Victor’s excited smile carry him through the remaining hours before the restaurant opened.

* * *

 

“Ladies,” Yuuri taunted, standing with his hands on his hips looking over the more-than-slightly-inebriated group of women sitting at their normal Wednesday table. “You are making my waiters blush again.” He laughed as he was yanked into multiple sets of arms and planted with numerous bright red lipstick kisses to his cheeks. These women had been the bane of his existence, the light of his Wednesdays, and the grandmothers he had never asked for. When he had caught the flu the previous December, they had descended on the restaurant, delivering hot casserole dishes and thermoses of strong Russian warm liquor concoctions. Victor had dutifully delivered each offering, only mildly bitter about their assumptions that he couldn’t properly care for Yuuri in his time of illness. Yuuri had returned each piece of cookware filled to the brim with the owner’s favorite menu items from the restaurant and the thermoses filled with Yuuri’s own preferred Japanese wine. Somehow the grumpiest women anyone had ever known had also become a part of their Nikiforov’s family.

As the hugs were finally completed and Yuuri was allowed to stand straight again, he felt Victor’s body press against his side. When they had stayed up making their wedding guest list, Yuuri had insisted including their most memorable regulars. Invitations wouldn’t be mailed until the following week, but Yuuri wanted to invite his favorite table in person. Looping an arm around Victor’s waist, Yuuri smiled down at his table full of ancient instigators. “Ladies,” he started again, hearing Victor giggle, “we would like to extend an invitation to our wedding. Formal invitations will be provided next week, but we would like to give you the verbal notice of the event.”

Instinct kicked in and Victor jumped to the side as the entire table of old women descended on Yuuri like a group of squawking pigeons diving for a single piece of bread. Laughing, Victor stepped back with the intention of avoiding the fold. He had failed to notice the single rogue tackler, who immediately grabbed Victor’s wrist to throw him into the fray. Giggling harder, Victor looked over the top of the gray and blue heads, seeing the laughing tears hanging at the corners of Yuuri’s eyes. They were a hugging mass of limbs, but Yuuri looked so happy in the midst of the chaos that Victor felt his own surge of joy swell in response. He only hoped that all of their invitations would be so well received.

“So what is this wedding going to look like?”

It was the oldest of the women who asked the first question, settling back down in front of her chicken to wait for the answer. Yuuri contemplated the inquiry while raising an eyebrow in Victor’s direction. He wasn’t sure if she meant the colors of the wedding or the ceremony itself. Yuuri hadn’t given much thought to the latter and his mind was stalling out on any potential response.

“Yeah,” another voice piped up around a mouthful of thick stew, “will it be Russian or Japanese?”

Victor took his own turn at puzzled confusion. He hadn’t thought about the differences in a wedding ceremony with Russia traditions versus the traditions that most likely existed in a Japanese wedding. Every time he thought about marrying Yuuri, he imagined seeing Yuuri walking down the aisle, and the kiss declaring them husbands, and the romance of their first dance. His mind glossed over the details of the actual ceremony. Now that he was thinking about it though, he wanted the answers as soon as possible. “We are working on the ceremony part,” Victor responded, vaguely waving a hand in the air. “You’ll have to be surprised like everyone else!” He laughed at the chorus of boos being launched from the table.

“A little surprise won’t kill anyone of you,” Yuuri stifled his laughter, slapping a hand over his mouth as the table erupted in the cackles of old women. “Alright, enjoy your dinner. We will have your invitations next week.” Accepting the fate of more kisses and hugs, Yuuri finally pulled himself away only to be yanked back into the office by his fiancé. “Victor,” Yuuri warned, holding a firm hand against Victor’s chest.

A devilish smile peaked at the corners of Victor’s lips. “I only wanted to talk about the wedding ceremony,” Victor attempted to inch closer to Yuuri’s body, pouting again when Yuuri pushed back to escape through the door. “Yuuri…”

Shaking his head at Victor’s whine, Yuuri jogged off toward the kitchen. “Later, Vitya!” He looked back over his shoulder and blew a kiss toward Victor who pretended to be knocked backwards by the force of it. His fiancé was a huge dork, and Yuuri loved him a ridiculous amount.

* * *

 

“You aren’t listening to a word I have said.”

Mila stood over Victor’s desk, arms crossed over her chest, accusing narrow of her eyes paired with a knowing smile. If Victor had to guess, he would say Mila was talking about ordering supplies, but it would only be a guess. He had been useless for the remainder of Wednesday night. Instead of working, he had successfully married Yuuri multiple times in his head in a variety of ceremonies. There were pages sitting in the printer about Japanese marriage customs and Victor had gone as far as memorizing the words “I do” in Japanese. If Yuuri wanted a traditional wedding, Victor would be ready for it.

“VICTOR!”

She was shouting and Victor looked up without an ounce of shame on his face. “Mila!” he jokingly shouted back, throwing his hands in the air.

“We need to process a bar order.” Mila’s hair fluttered back into place after its sudden poof with her exasperated breath. Chris’s pad landed on Victor’s hands, the bullet points of needed bar items listed in Chris’s neat handwriting. “Also, you and Yuuri should decide what alcohol you want for the reception. The distributor will be grumpy if you wait any longer to place a large order. We can store the alcohol off –site if need be, but get that order in tomorrow.”

This time he wasn’t ignoring Mila on his own behalf. Holding up the pad to point to a tiny heart in the bottom corner, Victor pursed his lips. “What does this say?” He assumed that Chris had picked up Japanese character writing from Yuuri, but Victor was still unable to detect more than Yuuri’s name in the foreign script. Mila, however, had taken an interest in learning the language along with learning Italian, French, Taiwanese, and her already fluent English. Briefly as he waited for his answer, Victor contemplated the genius of his restaurant manager and business partner. She could do so much, and yet she chose to stay with him. It was another relationship Victor wasn’t sure he deserved, but he was learning to stop asking the circular questions that perpetuated his self-doubt.

“Wow…” Mila had her own pleased smile as she pulled the pad out of Victor’s hands. “That definitely says Phichit.” Slapping the pad back down on the table, Mila cheered with one fist in the air. “Oh man, those two would be so cute! Why did no one think of this before? We’re going to hook them up, right?”

Leaning back into his chair, Victor smiled with a slow nod. Chris could deny his attraction to Phichit all he wanted, but the subtle truths were beginning to pour out of his liar of a best friend. “The way I see it,” Victor laced his fingers together and placed them behind his head, “if we get them together this year, then maybe we’ll have a family wedding once a year for at least the next three years.” Watching as Mila processed his statement, Victor waited for her to catch on to his meaning.

“Even if they get together by your wedding, neither of them is going to be ready to get married by next year.” Sinking back into an office chair, Mila kicked off her heels, rubbing a fist against the arch of her foot.

“I agree,” Victor nodded slowly, smiling to himself, “but you and Sara…” he trailed off letting the thought hang. The blush on Mila’s cheeks was a deep red and Victor let the giggles escape him. “Think about it, yeah?” He plucked the bar order form off the desk again and shook his mouse to wake up his computer. Glancing back to Mila, he chuckled again at his now silent partner.

* * *

 

“Yuuri,” Victor spoke into the soft skin of Yuuri’s chest. Promises had been fulfilled and they were cuddled together in their bed, naked bodies still sticking together with their love-provoked sweat. “Do you have any thoughts about our wedding ceremony?” Despite the number of times they had already pleased each other, Victor continued to let gentle kisses graze over Yuuri’s bare chest.

His eyelids were heavy over his happily satiated eyes as Yuuri felt his body begin to hum back to life in response to Victor’s gentle affection. “I don’t know…” the thoughts were all a pile of goo in his brain, melted down to uselessness by hours of physical affection. “I want to marry you. However that happens is fine with me.” Lacing his fingers into Victor’s hair, Yuuri guided his fiancé back up the bed to kiss him soundly on the mouth. Pulling back, Yuuri studied Victor’s face. “Any thoughts on your end?”

“I want to write our own vows,” Victor folded his arms over Yuuri’s chest and rested his chin on top of them. “And someone we know should marry us. It would make it more personal, you know?” He wasn’t going to reveal that he had spent the entirety of the restaurant’s open hours imagining different friends in the role. Victor was also not going to admit that there were nine versions of his vows already stashed in his top desk drawer at the restaurant. He had also written a set of vows for Yuuri to use, but he was _definitely not_ going to reveal that detail.

Thinking on the idea, Yuuri nodded. “Writing our own vows sounds good,” Yuuri lightly circled his thumb over Victor’s cheek watching as Victor’s eyes dropped closed. “Maybe Georgi could marry us? He is the only one without a significant role and I think he would do a great job.” A loud yawn punctuated the end of Yuuri’s thought and he snuggled back against his pillow. Showering could be a tomorrow morning problem, his body too heavy with content to allow Yuuri the motivation to move toward the bathroom.

Eyes fluttering open, Victor leaned up to kiss Yuuri again, smiling at the sleepy effort in reciprocity. “I agree, we’ll ask him tomorrow.” Pushing up on one elbow, Victor ran his fingertips over Yuuri’s cheek. “I can’t wait to marry you,” he whispered as Yuuri drifted off to sleep.


End file.
